


Genesis

by justbygrace



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, Protests
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-01
Updated: 2017-10-01
Packaged: 2019-01-07 10:14:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,183
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12230814
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justbygrace/pseuds/justbygrace
Summary: There was a full moon that night.





	Genesis

**Author's Note:**

> Originally based on an ancient Tumblr post. Polished off and updated for the modern world.

There was a full moon that night. When Rose told the story later she always made sure to point that bit out. Somehow it seemed to make everything else seem more reasonable, after all, full moons are absolutely proven to have an adverse affect on behavior. Whereas everything else she did that night was a lot more difficult to explain to people like friends and parents and future children. 

Really she liked to blame the rest of it on Donna. After all, if it wasn't for Donna she never would have gotten involved in things like "causes" and "protests" and she never would have been marching around outside of Harold Saxon's house holding signs and chanting. Though actually Saxon's new policies regarding date rape report were truly awful and maybe if she hadn't met Donna she'd still be down there protesting, but it was easier to just blame Donna. 

Donna didn't particularly care that she was being blamed, in fact, she kind of encouraged it. It amused her when Rose did stuff that was out of her comfort zone and then yelled at her about it, especially when nine times out of ten Rose was right back out there doing the exact same thing next chance she got. Like martial arts training and getting tattoos and going skydiving (actually, scratch that, that one was awful and Rose would never be doing that one again, thank you very much).

Anyway, the point was that if it wasn't for Donna - and the full moon - none of the rest of the night would have gone quite the same. Rose would not be chanting at the top of her lungs and she definitely would not have gotten the back of her shoe stepped on by someone who refused to confess. Whoever it was probably hadn't met to catch her ankle as well, but they had and she was more limping than actually marching.

She was so wrapped up in trying to determine how pissed Donna would be if she flopped down on the grass and just watched the marching that when the first shouts of "Police!" sounded, she didn't even notice and by the time she did, it was almost too late. The body of protesting college kids was scattering for the hills, not prepared to spend the night in jail (not when all of them had finals coming up). A few of the braver ones were standing their ground, determined to speak out and Rose admired them, she really did, but if she lost this scholarship she was so completely screwed and she couldn't jeopardize that.

Turning towards the main campus, Rose tried to take off running, but she had underestimated just how much her ankle was bruised. Her run was really a hobble and she kept sneaking glances over her shoulder at the sweeping flashlights of the police officers while cursing her dumb luck and Donna and the full moon and Harold Saxon and all the little rocks and roots that seemed to determine to send her flying flat on her face. 

When she heard the roar of the motorcycle speed past her and then circle back, idling as if its rider was enjoying the sight of a full-out police chase, she didn't even hesitate. Angling towards the bike, Rose grabbed the person's shoulders and swung her legs over the seat, screaming "Drive! Just Drive" at the top of her lungs. There was a half a second when she was certain that the bike's owner was going to tip her into the grass and take off, but then she felt the shoulders shrug and the bike's engine revved and they were gone in a cloud of dust and spitting gravel.

It took her a good half-mile before she stopped shaking long enough to gather some basic facts about the rider. Like that he was male; she was at least ninety percent certain on that one - there was something distinctly masculine about the scent of cologne that clung to the leather jacket she currently had her nose buried in. Also he had really amazing biceps and shoulder muscles and he had a torso perfect for wrapping her arms around his waist while simultaneously resting her cheek on his back. 

She really tried not to think about the fact that she had just hopped onto the back of a stranger's bike and that they seemed to be speeding in the exact opposite direction of the college. Unfortunately her brain didn't always listen to her and all of the worst case scenarios started running through her head on an endless loop while she desperately tried to remember all the tips Donna had taught her about self-defense. 

Her anxiety must have come through because the bike suddenly swerved off of the road and pulled into a gas station parking lot - a very brightly lit one she was pleased to see - and the driver's hands suddenly covered her own, gently prying them from the death grip they had on his waist. When he had managed that, he half turned on the seat to look at her. 

Unfortunately that didn't tell her all that much about him because he was wearing a dark hooded sweatshirt and sunglasses- at ten-thirty at night, who does that?! Once again her brain didn't choose to listen to her and she only realized she had spoken out loud when he chuckled and made a comment about who jumps on the backs of stranger's motorcycles which she probably would have had a response to except he didn't give her a chance. Instead he whipped off his sunglasses, shoved back his hood, and extended his hand, introducing himself as John Smith. 

The name seemed so generic as to be fake, but there was something honest and friendly about John's eyes (and also her brain only worked too quickly some of the time and no fake name was forthcoming) and so she told him her real name (Rose Tyler) and he gave her a smile like he hadn't done that too recently and then he mentioned he knew an all-night pizza joint just up the road if she wanted. 

The rational side of her brain whispered that she should say no, she should ask him to take her straight back to campus and forget this encounter ever happened, but his head was tilted to the side like he was trying to puzzle her out and there was still that smile on his face (though it was dimming with each second she was taking to answer his question) and also she _had_ just jumped on the back of his motorcycle and maybe she had left the rational side of her brain back in her dorm room. Instead of answering his question, she threw her leg back over the motorcycle and smiled at him. She was pretty sure his answering smile might have been on its way to a real grin.

(There was also a full moon three years later when John slipped a ring into her motorcycle helmet, but the sun was shining the day they told each they did.)


End file.
